


A Spell, A Vampire, And A Beast In The Basement

by ChaoticWritingDisaster



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: (Penny thinks they’re secretly dating), Agatha isn’t a big character in this sorry, Baz and Simon in their sixth year, Gen, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Secret Magic Quests, The Mage (Simon Snow) is an Asshole, Tried to write it so that it could be canon, Wholesome ending(?), fuck the mage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29753166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticWritingDisaster/pseuds/ChaoticWritingDisaster
Summary: (Update Every Thursday!!)Simon Snow doesn’t like asking for help, especially since it puts people in danger most of the time. But when he decides he can’t do it alone, and asks Baz for help, everything he thought was set in stone shifts.Suddenly his best-friend is acting funny, he’s questioning if a quest is legitimate, and Baz is acting nicer. Not to mention Simon’s starting to think he’s attractive.Now Simon’s not sure if it matters if the Myth in the basement is real or a trap, if Baz is evil, or if he completes this ‘quest’.Because it’s already by far been the most interesting of his life.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Penelope Bunce & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Kudos: 9





	1. A Hesitant Request

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and thank you for clicking my Fic! I set it up so it could be canon, time-line wise. Do what you want with that information ;)
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and know that this Fic is updated every Thursday, unless otherwise noted

**Simon**  
I hate this. Having to ask Baz for help. It’s the most self-deprecating thing I’ve ever had to do. 

‘What’s the most embarrassing moment in your life?’

‘Oh you know, having to go ask my arch-enemy for help, because I was too incompetent to do it alone, and too worried to ask my best friend.’ Yeah. Not depressing at all.

I walk up the stupid steps to our dorm, pausing, considering whether or not I should knock, even though I do live here too. 

Someone clears their throat behind me, and I whip around, casting for my sword.

“What kind of idiot knocks on their own door?” Grey eyes, like when the sky’s cloudy with no rain, look down at me. The mouth below them twisted in a smirk. Baz.

“I...Uh.” 

_‘I need your help finding a magic creature that may or may not be in the basement, because a mysterious letter, that might be leading me to a trap, told me too. And I’m asking you instead of Penelope because I don’t actually care for your safety as much as I do hers, if at all.’_

Yeah, I probably shouldn’t say that. Although he doesn’t seem like he’s gonna give me a chance to say anything. 

He shoves past me, opening the door and calling over his shoulder, “Have fun standing there like an imbecile, Snow. Or whatever it is you’re doing,” before shutting the door behind him. I don’t know how he shuts a door that fast without slamming it. 

I nick my thumb on the end of The Sword of Mages, pressing it into the door. When I walk in Baz is covering his mouth and glaring at me already. 

“Crowley Snow, you have magic. Use it. You don’t need to go spilling blood to make me leave.” He starts to walk out the door, so I reach out and grab his arm. 

Baz yanks it away, staring at me like I’m crazy. 

“What are you doing?” He says it the way you’d ask someone if they’d just stolen the last butter-scone.

I sigh, running my hand through my hair, trying to make my words and my mouth link together. 

“I...” I grit my teeth, forcing the words out. “I need your help, ok?”

I’m frowning at the floor, not wanting to look up at his reaction.

I do look up when he starts cackling though. 

“What? I’m serious Baz!” I glare at him, waving my arms, like that will help him understand that Watford’s fate might rest on his shoulders. And mine, obviously.

Baz just shakes his head, still laughing. “I know. That’s why it’s hilarious.” 

**Baz**

He’s joking. He has to be. Incredible, _The_ Simon Snow, wanting my help? How laughable. 

“I’m serious, Baz!!’ There’s practically smoke coming out his ears, and part of me is waiting for him to stamp his foot like a toddler.

“Yes, I can tell by the way you’re waving your arms like a maniac.” I’ve stopped laughing, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow at the fuming boy before me. “Snow, why the fuck would you ask for my help? Where’s your little brainiac friend? She’d be of much more use than, oh I don’t know, your arch-enemy who’s been getting in your way for years.” 

‘Not to mention the few times I’ve tried to kill you.’ I privately add. 

“Penny is busy! And I need someone who’s better at...planning ahead than I am. And you’re regrettably the smartest bloke at Watford, even if you are an arse.” Snow says quietly, frustration still evident in his voice. I pretend I didn’t hear that last part.

“Well obviously. I didn’t think you could step outside of your own world to notice that. Very impressive, Snow.” I sneer, seeing how long I can keep this going before he gives up on my help. Gives up on me. 

He walks closer to me, closer to my face than I’d like, but there’s no way I’m backing down for bloody Snow. 

“The fate of Watford might rest on our shoulders, and you don’t even care!” He jabs a finger into my chest, almost hard enough to hurt. 

_‘Of course I care. I’m just not the one who helps you. The hero’s sidekick.’_ Although I know I can’t, I consider saying this for a split second. I consider saying a lot of things.

“Anathema.” I remind him instead. Snow just glares at me, before turning and sitting on his bed, head in hands. 

Good. He finally realized I’m not the one to ask for help. He should go find Bunce in around 15 minutes, once he’s gotten over his anger towards me. I turn to walk out the door, when I hear Snow mutter something under his breath.

“Baz.” 

I turn around, starting to get frustrated that he hasn’t just let it go already. “ _What_ , Snow?”

“Please.” My eyes go wide, and I feel like an idiot for not being able to control my reaction. For still not being able too. 

“Please Baz. I can’t drag Penny into this, and I can’t do it alone.” He’s speaking softly, his voice slightly urgent, but more just...pleading. “Trust me, I don’t want to ask you of all people for help. But I don’t have any other options.” His voice hitches on the last word.

Ah. So that was it. He didn’t want to drag anyone he cared about into it, and since he cares for everyone (stupid, kind, idiot) he didn’t have any options. Except me. I wish it was easy to ignore the way that realization twisted my heart, but it wasn’t. I just hope it didn’t show on my face. 

“Fine.” I snap. “Only to make sure I’m the one that kills you, not whatever dangerous beast you’ll end up facing.”

You’d think someone’d given him a barrel of cherry-scones the way his face lit up, instead of his evil-vampire-roommate telling him he’d help so he’d get to kill him. More proof Snow’s an idiot.  
(It’s incredible how many of those scones he eats. I don’t understand his fascination with them.)

“Really?” Suspicion (the _correct_ emotion) finally began to show on his face, as he walked across the room towards me. “Truce then?”

I sigh, knowing full-well I’m going to say yes, and also that this is potentially the worst decision I’ve ever made. Besides falling for ‘The Chosen One’ in the first place, of course. 

“Truce. Until we’ve taken care of whatever danger is threatening Watford this time.” I hold out my hand, waiting for him to shake on our make-shift deal. 

“You swear?” Snow runs his left hand through his curls, taking my hand as they bounce right back into place, shadowing the few freckles on his forehead. And this is why I can’t say no. No matter how much I should, he draws me in, and I always say yes. And I always get burned.

“Yes Snow. What, do you want me to bind it with magic?” I begin to pull my hand back, adding a sneer to my usual sarcastic remark.

Snow pulls me back, looking directly into my eyes, his ocean-blue orbs shining the way they always do before he says or does something stupid. 

“Yes.” 

There’s the stupid.


	2. I’ll Not Hear A Word Against Him

**Baz**

“What do you mean yes? Have you never heard of >i, Snow?” I hope my expression conveys how dumb his idea is. 

He shakes his head, and for a moment I think he’s saying he actually doesn’t know what sarcasm is. That would explain a lot. 

“I know what sarcasm is. But can you really do that?” Snow’s eyes are shining hopefully, and I can’t believe he’s genuinely asking me this.

“It’s our sixth year, you didn’t know about _binding spells_?” I don't even try to keep the exasperation out of my voice. I didn’t think he was that dumb. 

Mildly stupid? Yes.  
Flawed logic? Absolutely.  
Foolish? One hundred percent.  
But actually dumb? No, I didn’t expect that.  
(Although there’s definitely a reason Snow and Bunce come in a pair. They’re the definition of the phrase ‘the brains and the brawn’) (Snow being brawn, Bunce being the brains)

“Of course I do! I meant can _you_ spell the truce? Like um, you as in you.” He fiddles with my hand, then seems to realize what he's doing, dropping it immediately. 

“Snow. We’re in our _sixth_ year. Sixth. Obviously _I_ can do a binding spell, but I doubt that asking anyone else would have a good outcome.” I take out my wand, and hold my hand out, palm up. 

“Why wouldn’t it have a good outcome?” He tilts his head a bit, reaching his hand out.

“Because I’ve had years of training at home, they haven’t.”

He places his hand on top of mine, shrugging. “I guess that makes sense.”

This spell doesn’t actually require our hands like this. For us to place our hands together this intimately. But I take what I can get from Snow, and this is the only opportunity I’ll have for the rest of the year to be this close to him. 

I move our hands so they’re directly between us, palms still parallel to each other. 

Raising my wand between us, I light my magic. That’s how I think of it, lighting it like a match, and the words are the gasoline. You’d think for a person that’s flammable I’d use fewer fire-analogies.

“No murdering me till we’ve taken care of the danger.” Snow says. “And no evil-plotting.”

“And no being stupid till the truce is over.” I add, making sure he knows that bit’s solely directed toward him.

He glares but nods.

“ _ **I’ll Not Hear A Word Against Him**_.” The tip of my wand glows red for a moment, and I feel the magic wash over- no _flow through_ our hands. 

Snow must have been surprised, since he’s slipped his fingers between mine and is grabbing my hand like it’s a lifeline. I wait for him to let go, to realize the magic has settled.

“That was _wicked_.” He’s got that dangerously gleeful shine in his eyes, the kind that shouldn’t be there after spelling a potentially life-threatening oath.

“Snow, you have no idea the potential drawbacks to what I just did, do you?” I raise an eyebrow, making myself pull my hand away. 

“What we just did. And there’s the same drawbacks to you as there are me.” He shrugs. “Besides, that was wicked.”

I shake my head, smiling a bit when he looks away. He’s so...Snow. Which is both awful and perfect.

He does a little hop of sorts, for reasons I can’t comprehend, and rubs his neck. That’s his trademark thinking motion, I’ve come to notice over the years.

“Shall we uh, go to the dining hall? To like...strategize. And stuff.” Snow shrugs, and I’m pretty sure this is the first time he’s ever asked me a question that wasn’t:  
_“Why are you sneaking around?”_  
Or: _”What are you plotting?”_  
Or: _“Why do you always get in our way?”_

“Now? It’s barely been ten minutes. Do you always jump into ‘quests’?” I air-quote the word. The truce never said anything about sarcastic remarks. “This quickly? Because if so, Bunce is much more prominent in your little duo than I thought.”

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up. And I’m not jumping in, I’m strategizing first.”

“You don’t want to, you know, actually investigate the letter that sent you on your potential suicide-mission in the first place?” I cross my arms, raising my eyebrows at him.

“There’s no time for that. And if we go we’d find out, wouldn’t we?” 

I feel like slapping myself. Or him. How has he not died on any of these quests of his yet? Ah yes, Bunce. I should remember to thank her for not just letting this imbecile die already.

“Fucking hell Snow, that’s the most unlogical logic I’ve ever heard.” 

He frowns. “Well what would you have us do then? Oh wise Basilton.”

**Simon**

I glare at him. Why does he have to be so difficult? I’m trying to save Watford, not fight him! Although I suppose that’s hard since all we know how to _do_ is fight each other. Every time he’s in the room, I can’t help it. He takes up every gap in my mind, and I have to. To throw a glare in his direction, to try to figure out what he was plotting, to hate how perfect he acted.

“I’d like to look at this letter of yours.” Baz says, uncrossing his arms and placing one on his hip. “Where did you put it?”

I’m tempted for a moment to hide it, then I realized that’s stupid. “Under my mattress.”

He blinks at me, literally blinks, then just shakes his head. “Of course, the perfect place to put an important letter, under your singed mattress.”

“It’s not that singed.” I mutter. 

He ignores me, grabbing the letter. And the journal I forgot was under there. Shit.

“Baz, give that to me.” I try to snatch it from him, but he dodges quickly. He’s holding it above his head, and curse him for being taller than me.  
(I’m not done growing yet, I think. I’ll be taller than him someday.)

“Why? Is it your diary Snow?” He smirks at me, strands of his hair falling onto his face. Good, I can’t see his mocking eyes as much. “Do you write about your precious girlfriend?”

I glare, wishing I could kick him. Stupid Anathema. “Bunce isn’t my girlfriend, you arse.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking at me like I’m stupid. “I meant your precious Agatha.”

Oh. Yeah. 

“Just give me my journal!” I hop and try to snatch it away again, but he just steps back, tucking it into his jacket. The way he tucks it into the pocket without looking both impresses me and pisses me off.

“Oh no, I’m keeping this. Future blackmail, Snow. The truce said nothing about that.” Dammit he’s right. 

“Well, I didn’t think you’d thought that far ahead.” I cross my arms, giving up on retrieving the journal, sitting on my-only slightly singed!-mattress. It’s hanging off the bed a bit now.

“Just read the stupid letter already.” I snap. So we can leave the room. And I can kick you in the shins without being blasted out of Watford. (Stupid Anathema)

Baz smooths his hair back, his eyes scanning the page. 

**Baz**

I smooth the letter out, reading the short and messy script.  
(And ignoring the slightly burnt edges)

_“Snow, ___

___I’ve barely any time to write you this, and I can only hope it will arrive to you at all. There’s a Myth in the dungeon below Watford, though I do not know what kind. I can only hope this information will be helpful to you, as this may be the last thing I write._ _ _

___Signed-“_ _ _

__It cuts off before the end, the signature nothing but a blur of black ink, as if the edge was pulled away too hastily. I fold the letter back in half, closing my eyes, re-reading it in my head._ _

__What a load of hogwash._ _

__I genuinely don’t think I’ve read many things as fake as that. I’m almost positive whoever wrote it copied the message, word for word, out of a cheesy fantasy novel._ _

__I turn to Snow, holding out the letter, fully prepared to tell him so._ _

__“This is potentially the stupidest-“_ _

__“Did your Aunt send it?”_ _

___Excuse me?_ _ _

__“What?” I pull my arm back, my posture going completely ridged. “You’re joking, right.”_ _

__Snow seems like he at least understands how insulting his accusation is, since while he is still looking directly at me, he’s pinching the sleeve of his jumper._ _

__“It just seemed like something your family might do, ya know...Send a mysterious letter, to distract me from...everything else.” He finishes lamely. “And I figured with the truce, you’d _have_ to tell me, right?”_ _

__Unbelievable. Actually, it’s totally believable. I don’t know why I ever thought we could be amicable with each other._ _

__“Oh, get off your _high-horse_. My whole world, my family's whole world, doesn’t revolve around you.” I’m tempted to spit in his face, but that definitely wouldn’t help disarm the situation. I’m tempted to do it anyway, because why should I be the one to de-escalate it at all?_ _

__“I didn’t mean it like that!” He’s _really_ glaring at me now, any hint of guilt or regret gone. “But you can’t pretend like your family doesn’t plot against the Mage, that they don’t-“_ _

__“Oh f-“ I start to curse at him, but my mouth closes against my will. Stupid fucking spell.  
( _I’ll Not Hear A Word Against Him_ can work too literally)_ _

__“Screw you Snow!” It’s not as satisfying, but it’ll do._ _

__“Look, I’m sorry!” He’s still glaring at me, his hands clenched at his sides. “I just- I just didn’t want it to be another trap I get pulled into. The kind where I have to either kill a bunch of things, or get half-saved and _still_ kill a bunch of things, while people watch.” _ _

__“Snow, when have I ever pulled you into one of those traps?” My voice is hoarse, and I know I need to shut up, but I keep talking anyway. “I know I’ve tried some messed up stuff, but I’ve never _legitimately_ tried to kill you.” I set the letter on his bed. “Or make you kill other things.”_ _

__He looks at me skeptically. “What about the Chimera?”_ _

__I roll my eyes, grateful to his stupidity for making me more annoyed than depressed for a moment. “Crowley, Snow, I wouldn’t have actually let it eat you. I _didn’t_ actually let it eat you.”_ _

__Snow nods, seeming to think about that for a moment. He always processes information the same way, pausing and nodding to himself quietly if he finds whatever it is agreeable._ _

__“Yeah, I suppose you didn’t.” He holds his hand out to me. “I’m sorry.”_ _

__There’s no way I’m shaking hands with Snow twice in one day. I tell him so._ _

__“Apology accepted, now get your hand away from me.”_ _

__He rolls his eyes, putting his hand in his pocket. “Then if your family didn’t send the letter, who did?”_ _

__“I know you think I’m evil, but I genuinely don’t know the details of every nefarious plot against you Snow.”_ _

__“Is it still nefarious then? Couldn’t the letter be genuine?”_ _

__“That message was so guessable it could’ve been taken out of a bad fantasy novel. Or some poorly-written fanfic. I mean, it doesn’t even state what _kind_ of Myth is in the basement.” I shake my head, just thinking about the many different types of Myth’s gives me a headache. _ _

__“Then what do we do?” Snow licks his lips, frowning, and I avert my eyes._ _

__“We meet back here tomorrow and look into that letter. And you should talk to Bunce. I hate to admit it, but she’s probably better at investigating things than both of us put together.”_ _

__He nods, somewhat hesitantly. I suppose it’s fair to care more about the safety of your best friend that your archenemy._ _

__“And what do we do now? Like now, now.”_ _

__“Now you go get something to eat, and I go to the library and study. And we go our separate ways till tomorrow.” I say, brushing past him to the door._ _

___‘Because if I’m going to be spending this much time with you, I’m going to need to hunt more often.’_ I think to myself._ _

__He nods, not agreeing, more just accepting that that’s the only plan we have. “Alright. Tomorrow.”_ _

__I open the door, not turning my head, “Tomorrow. With Bunce,” Then shut it and walk down the staircase quicker than I should._ _

__I sigh, pushing my hair back, thinking about if any of this is a good idea._ _

__Thinking about how _none_ of this is a good idea. _ _

__And thinking about what a terrible hit the rat population in the catacombs is about to take._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignore that I posted this on Wednesday— The update next week will actually be on Thursday. :]


End file.
